


Like Poetry

by JazzRaft



Series: Dark at Night [8]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Fluff, Love Confessions, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-20
Updated: 2017-01-20
Packaged: 2018-09-18 20:41:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,922
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9402119
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JazzRaft/pseuds/JazzRaft
Summary: Those eyes, so fierce and turbulent, like a sea in a storm... He didn’t know if that was poetry exactly, but he thought it was the truth.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on [tumblr](http://jazzraft.tumblr.com/post/155874440392/realize-with-noctis-and-nyx-keep-up-the-good) for the "Realize" prompt in [this post.](http://jazzraft.tumblr.com/post/155862556736/send-me-a-pairing-and-a-prompt) Also a personal favorite of the author's! :)

“I have a situation.”

“Shiva’s tits, how many situations are you gonna have this week?”

Noctis gave him a pitiful look and Prompto was obligated by BFF law to do everything in his power to make it not so pitiful. Groaning, but resigned, Prompto closed his laptop and sat up, folding his hands between his knees and assuming the appropriate listening position. “The doctor will see you now.”

He’d hardly switched the metaphorical sign to “OPEN” before Noctis started in on his woes. “So, you know I’ve been seeing this guy…”

“Mysty, yeah.” When the syllables in “Mr. Mysterious” had gotten too exhausting to keep pronouncing, he’d shortened it to “Mysty.” And with the frequency in which Noctis brought him up, Prompto was considering shortening it even more. Half of his vocabulary lately seemed to consist of variations of the code-name “Mr. Mysterious.” He was starting to resent him for it.

“Yeah, him,” Noctis went on. “I have to break up with him.”

“Wait, _what?_ ”

Any irritation Prompto felt was quickly shoved deep down into the garbage can that was his feelings and was traded out for panic. He shot to his feet. “ _Hell. No._ ”

“I thought doctors were supposed to be impartial?”

“Why the hell do you have to break up with him?” Prompto said over him. “Yesterday, you recited a two hour poetic reading about how nice his eyes are. _You_. Did _poetry_. _You!_ Did that!”

“He does have damn nice eyes,” Noctis sighed, forlornly.

Prompto batted him on the arm. “Then what the _fuck_ , man?”

“The fuck is that, I dunno, I think something’s wrong, I think I’m afraid of him or something…”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, what do you mean _afraid_? Did he lay hands on you? Did he _hurt_ you, ‘cause I’ll kill him! And Gladio will kill him and Ignis will _really_ kill him and the only mystery left of him is where the hell we’ll dump his mutilated corpse when we’re done with him.”

“No, no, no, c’mon, seriously? No, it’s nothing like that, it’s just…”

Noctis sucked in a breath and proceeded to pace the apartment, searching Prompto’s carpet for the right way to explain himself. “Something’s _off_ lately, I dunno what it is exactly. And it’s nothing he did, I don’t think, it’s me, I’ve been getting all… _weird_ around him. Like, my body starts doing things…”

“Okay, dude, we’re friends n’ everything, but I really don’t need to know that.”

Noctis threw a couch pillow at him. “Not what I meant. I mean like… I’ll see him down a hallway and all of a sudden my throat gets numb? And when he walks towards me I get really sweaty and it feels like somebody punched me in the chest? Or like he’ll laugh and I feel like I wanna throw up, like, what the hell? He’s never hurt me, but _something_ hurts when I’m around him. I don’t get it, but I don’t think I can stay with him if I’m like this, right? Whatever ‘this’ is, it’s not good, right?”

Prompto pelted the pillow back at him and leaned forward on the edge of the couch. “Noct. Buddy. _Idiot_. You’re not _afraid_ of the guy. You’re _in love_ with him, dude!”

Noctis clutched the pillow to his chest and was silent. He stared at Prompto, unseeing, for a very long time before plopping down into a chair like his knees had suddenly stopped working. The gravity of what Prompto was suggesting pushed down on him, pressed deeply into his brain, and forced him to acknowledge it. After an eternity, realization set in, and all Noctis could think to say was,

“Oh shit.”

He thought back to the week he’d had, dealing with these weird, stomach-churning feelings and fleeing to Prompto’s to vomit them all out in their unofficial therapy sessions. He’d been with Nyx for months before then, keeping it quiet to ease Nyx’s paranoia that he was going to be put to death for daring to do the things he did to the prince. It had been a fun flirtation at first, then slowly deepened into something more companionable, something more within the boundaries of an actual relationship. It was by no means normal: paying off restaurant managers to forget they’d seen them laughing over red wine and candle-light; secreting away down vacant corridors in the Citadel to share fervent kisses against the gilded walls; manipulating the guard rotation at night to give Nyx an excuse for patrolling past his bedroom to do terrible and beautiful things to him beneath the silk sheets.

Noctis liked him. A lot. He liked the way it felt to break all the rules with him and liked even more that Nyx mutually delighted in the adrenaline that their scandalous affair triggered between them. He liked the freedom he felt when Nyx stole him out into the city to explore the districts Noctis’s security detail would never let him near. He liked how safe it felt to be with him, and at the same time so dangerous. He liked the contradiction. He liked how hot his skin felt when Nyx touched him, liked how the stubble on his chin scratched his face, _loved_ the taste of his mouth, _Gods_. He loved sitting with him in the dark, loved telling him all of his fears, loved the way Nyx told him to screw them all, even loved the occasional deep, chest-heaving sobbing into his uniform because it was hard, everything was _so_ hard, but Nyx didn’t care, and for some reason that mattered, and he loved the way he stroked his hair when he was hurting, and he loved him… and he _loved_ him…

And he loved him.

Noctis suddenly remembered where he was. He looked at Prompto, searching for some kind of direction. Prompto smiled. “So, when are you gonna tell him?”

* * *

Now, _this_ was actually fear. He understood the difference now. His hands were shaking, his heart was racing, he was sweating again, what the hell, why was he always sweating? What if this didn’t go the way he hoped? What if he said it and Nyx didn’t like it? What if Nyx didn’t love him back? Did it matter? It was okay, Noctis could love him without having him love him back… right? If he believed that for a second, then he wouldn’t be this scared.

“Damn boy, you look like you just saw a tonberry in the back alley of a Crow’s Nest.”

Noctis’s galloping heart came to a violent halt, leaping into his throat at the sound of his laughter. That had been happening a lot this week, too. Every time Nyx chuckled like that, voice resonating deep in his chest, Noctis would forget how to breathe. The amusement in Nyx’s voice changed when Noctis looked at him. The glaive frowned, finishing the distance between them a little more briskly.

“What’s wrong?”

Damn, what must his face have looked like to trigger that kind of response? Noctis ducked his head to try and compose himself, feeling his cheeks getting warm and his palms growing cold. Nyx’s hands landed on his shoulders, gently pushing him down onto the edge of the fountain. The back gardens of the Citadel was their spot. When they needed someplace to hide from prying eyes, they always ended up here, in this secret corner paradise. Noctis never thought it would be Nyx he wished he could hide from.

Nyx cupped his hands around his face, pulling it up to make him look him in the eyes. Those eyes, so fierce and turbulent, like a sea in a storm. It was so easy for Noctis to drown there, buffeted by the wind and the rain and submerged forever beneath the crashing, foaming waters. He didn’t know if that was poetry exactly, but he thought it was the truth.

“You look like you want to cry,” Nyx said, quiet, familiar.

Noctis shook his head and swallowed the pins and needles in his throat. Terrified though he was, he didn’t suddenly stop feeling safe with Nyx. Even if it was him that he was afraid of, there was no changing the comfort he felt in his touch. He prayed to all the Six that he wouldn’t lose it forever by opening his stupid mouth.

“I have something to tell you.” He could barely hear his own voice, straining out of his throat. He gulped down the nerves one last time. “It’s nothing bad really… I mean, it’s not to me, b-but I don’t know how you’ll… deal with it. I know we said we’d keep this thing casual, but… I…”

He could feel his resolve wavering already, but it was too late to go back. He could already see something settling in Nyx’s eyes, some sort of realization of his own. He did that a lot. Somehow, he always seemed to know what Noctis was going to say before even he knew. Now, he really did feel like he wanted to cry. Or scream. Or run. Or die. Maybe it was that fear which finally pushed him. Maybe it was a tiny lick of hope, hidden deep at the bottom of his heart that did it. Whatever it was, it forced him to take the plunge, and he just said it. It came out in a gasp, like it had been choking him, and saying it finally allowed him to breathe.

“I love you.”

It was quiet for a long time. All he could do was wait. Pray. Stare into those eyes that could tell him everything and nothing all at once. Beg in silence that he wouldn’t leave him for this. The longer it stayed quiet, the more desperate his unsaid pleas felt. Yup, there were the tears, as per fucking usual. They were burning at the backs of his eyes, cackling at him, telling him he was a fool, that he’d hoped for too much. He lowered his face to fight them off as best he could, biting down how badly they hurt.

“Hey.”

Nyx tilted his face up again, fingers wrapped around the tip of his chin. There was a smile on his face, the crooked one, Noctis’s favorite. It drove him out of his mind. It was so small, yet it said so much. It overwhelmed him all the time, the simplicity and the profundity of such a tiny tug of the lips. Nyx brushed his knuckles along his jaw, and his eyes were warm and honest when he said it.

“Love you too.”

“You’re not just saying that?” Noctis asked, voice cracking, chest throbbing, wanting to kiss him or punch him, he didn’t really know yet.

“You might be the Crown Prince, but you know I’m not just gonna kiss your ass and tell you what you wanna hear. No, I’m not just saying that, you don’t ‘just say’ I love you. Idiot.”

He tapped Noctis’s forehead, bumping his head back and laughing mildly. Noctis felt everything rush out of him in a sudden burst of something he couldn’t quite name. He threw himself around Nyx, nearly toppling him back into the grass, and he held him so tightly that it made his own arms hurt. He crushed his face against his neck and he said it into his skin, over and over again.

“I love you… I love you… Love you…”

And Nyx said it back to him every time, petting his hair the way he knew he loved, holding him close.

“Love you too.”


End file.
